The Genius Hitter Who Conquered America - Chapter 64

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 64
In the Arizona Fall League, wins and losses didn’t matter much.
But the game was heating up.
Individual player statistics were what truly counted.
Demonstrating clutch ability meant receiving a significantly better evaluation.
Therefore, the performance of the three Low-A players was more than enough to astonish the scouts.
“What is this? Is this right?”
“These guys aren’t Low-A level.”
“Yeah. At least High-A. If we’re being generous, they could even reach Double-A.”
“That makes sense. They’re from the Dodgers. They wouldn’t have sent mediocre players.”
Soo-ho and his companions were substituted after completing two at-bats.
Naturally, it was to give other players opportunities, as was typical for the Arizona Fall League.
Yet the fervor in the stands showed no signs of cooling.
However, within that commotion, there was one section that maintained a composed silence.
Behind Home Plate. Specifically, behind the catcher.
Thomas opened his leather notebook with trembling hands.
Inside was the initial report left by Frank, the legendary Dodgers scout, from when Soo-ho took his entrance exam.
[Scouting Report – Oh Soo-ho.]
Contact (Accuracy): 20 / 70
Power (Strength): 30 / 60
Run (Base Running): 80 / 80
Arm (Throwing): 50 / 80
Field (Defense): 50 / 60
Mental (Mentality): 80 / 80
-Comments
A lottery ticket. And a jackpot lottery at that. His physical tools and mentality are already Major League caliber. However, his hitting mechanics are a blank slate. It could take considerable time to refine. A prospect requiring patience.
20-80 scale.
Under this cold evaluation standard where the Major League average was set at 50 points, Soo-ho’s hitting score at the time was pathetic.
Power 30 points. This essentially meant there was virtually no chance of hitting extra-base hits in games.
Though the 70 in 30/70 represented potential.
But that wasn’t what applied now.
In simple terms, it was false hope.
Thomas shifted his gaze to Paul beside him.
He had caught sight of him writing something out of the corner of his eye.
Scratch, scratch.
Paul’s pen tip moved roughly across the paper.
He boldly drew two lines through the current scores Frank had written.
Then he began writing new numbers beside them.
[Update]
Contact: 20 → 40
Power: 30 → 50.
A score of 20 meant he couldn’t make contact.
But 40, while still rough around the edges, was a declaration that he had begun to make contact.
Soo-ho had only installed the mechanism so far.
Considering he hadn’t yet mastered the other elements necessary for hitting, it was a sufficiently high score.
And that power rating of 50.
That was Major League average.
That’s right—Major League, not Minor League.
Thomas was visibly startled by this.
The deficient areas had each improved by 20 points.
In just three months.
This was too dramatic a transformation to call mere growth.
It wouldn’t have been strange to say a different person’s soul had entered his body.
Paul updated his comments as well.
-Comment Updated
This lottery ticket has won. Patience is unnecessary. His greatest weakness isn’t his ability—it’s simply his lack of experience in the higher leagues.
Click.
Paul slipped the report he would send to the organization into his notebook and closed it.
Then he flashed a grin at Thomas, who was stealing glances at him.
Thomas smacked his lips.
“That’s quite a favorable evaluation.”
“Come on. Anyone listening would think I’m being biased.”
“Well, that’s not exactly the case….”
Thomas nodded in agreement.
To be honest, Paul’s scores were far from generous.
Rather, they were coldly precise.
“The opponent was Dylan from the Black Hawks. Top velocity of 99 miles per hour. The kind of pitcher they call untouchable at the Minor League level. He pushed that pitcher’s fastball, and drove it over the deepest part of center field fence.”
It wasn’t just a simple home run.
Usually, when you’re overpowered by velocity, the batted ball gets sliced into a foul or becomes an infield fly.
But Soo-ho’s batted ball was different.
“Exit velocity 105 miles per hour. Launch angle 28 degrees. This wasn’t accidental. It’s proof he aimed perfectly and executed the mechanism flawlessly.”
“You saw it right.”
Paul tapped his notebook in agreement.
“And what’s even more terrifying is that guy’s ability to adjust.”
Paul’s eyes gleamed with intensity.
“What did Frank write in his report? That the mechanism was a blank slate. That patience would be necessary. So what’s the result?”
“…He completely overhauled it in just three months.”
“Exactly. And not some crude imitation either. Lower body rotation, upper body stability, and wrist utilization at the moment of impact—it was so natural, like a veteran who’d played ten years with that mechanism.”
Paul rubbed his forearm, which had broken out in goosebumps.
There are many geniuses in baseball.
But true geniuses who absorb teachings like a sponge and make them their own are rare.
Soo-ho was the latter.
Or perhaps he was a monster who possessed both qualities.
“That’s what terrifies me the most. Other players spend years grinding away, breaking their bones in agony, and still can’t fix their flaws. Yet he accomplished it in less than a single season.”
“No. How is this even possible? Paul. You know as well as I do that Soo-ho was a failed prospect. And that too….”
Not on the American stage, but in the Korean KBO.
Paul nodded.
“I’ve been digging through his Minor League footage from back then too. At that time, he wasn’t the kind of talent people would call a genius. So something felt off. I wondered if maybe a different soul had entered his body. But realistically, is that even possible?”
“It’s impossible.”
“Right. So I went back and checked his high school days. Fortunately, there was one video from a tournament called the Cheongryong Cup. And in that footage, I saw it. His genius.”
“…What was it like?”
“Literally. There’s no way the Major League wouldn’t have made him an offer, you know? So I looked into it. Want to know what’s interesting?”
Paul continued.
“It turns out our Dodgers made him an offer back then. Not just us—all 30 MLB teams did. It was a long time ago, but still.”
“And he didn’t come? Why would he do something so foolish… If he’d come here from the start, he would’ve developed so much more. He might’ve even become a Major Leaguer.”
“It wasn’t foolish. Soo-ho has no family. He’s alone. So would he suddenly change his environment and play baseball? He probably wanted to establish himself first in Korea, where he was already succeeding. Then come to America more stably later. If his dream was to become a Major Leaguer, that is. It’s just a guess, of course.”
But that guess was the truth.
During his high school years.
Before entering the professional ranks, Soo-ho was a talent everyone drooled over.
Not just America, but Japan and every KBO team wanted him.
But just as Paul suspected, Soo-ho had been afraid to leave Korea.
And there was nothing strange about that at all.
“We’re Americans, so America feels comfortable. Have you ever been to Korea?”
“No.”
“How would you feel if you gave up America and got a job at a Korean company, doing your current work there?”
“It would be different. Very awkward. The language wouldn’t work well either.”
“Exactly. That’s it.”
Even the most promising prospects from Korea accepted offers from America and left, but those who actually succeeded were extremely rare.
Moreover, Soo-ho was just a high school student at that time.
In a situation where everything was uncertain, he simply made the stable choice.
The KBO was simply too small a vessel to contain Soo-ho’s talent.
“But Soo-ho’s choice wasn’t wrong. No. Actually, I think it turned out better.”
“Why? Did failure become his strength? Something like that?”
Paul nodded.
“Something like that. His learning speed. It’s because he had nowhere to retreat. Because he tasted failure. Have you ever seen a Minor League prospect like this? A player who gets back up after failure?”
“Never….”
“Right. Because they’ve never experienced failure. You know why, don’t you? Here, failure means the end. This American Minor League world has no safety net….”
The Minor League was the highest stage where baseball prospects could stand.
And.
“Humans are weak. Especially Minor Leaguers—they’ve tasted the waters of this stage once. They know how vast and magnificent this world is. It’s crawling with monsters. So after one failure, they don’t challenge again like Soo-ho did at a tryout. There’s the pride of having once been a Minor Leaguer, and there’s fear.”
Therefore, Soo-ho’s grit—the refusal to surrender when everyone else had given up—deserved high praise.
In this field, at least, it was truly one of a kind.
As a result, Soo-ho received an enormous gift that day.
Of course, not in the form of anything tangible.
But Paul’s evaluation today would reach the top.
It would reach the Dodgers’ ears as well.
‘I’ll make sure to pass it along.’
Paul rose from his seat as if he’d seen all he needed to see that day.
“I’ll go send a fax.”
* * *
It was less than five minutes after Paul sent the fax.
The phone in his pocket vibrated loudly.
The caller was Kevin, the director overseeing the entire Dodgers farm system.
“Yes, Director. Did you receive it?”
The moment Paul answered the call with ease, a bewildered voice erupted from the other end of the line.
-Hey Paul. What is this?
Kevin’s voice carried a note of confusion.
The report that had just come through by fax.
The scores and comments written there were truly astonishing.
“What do you mean? It’s just a report of what I saw with my own eyes. The Dodgers brought in quite an incredible talent this time, didn’t they?”
-…I never expected to hear that from you.
Surprisingly, Kevin’s voice quickly became composed.
“You don’t seem very surprised?”
-Surprised about what? Starting with Frank, then Alex, and even Manager Taylor from Low-A. Just from hearing praise about this guy from those three, it would take well over twenty-four hours.
Kevin let out a hollow laugh.
-My ears are practically getting calluses. Those picky fellows can’t stop singing Oh Soo-ho’s praises every time they open their mouths.
“As expected. The Dodgers really are something special, aren’t they? Gathering the best in each field and nurturing such an entertaining talent like this.”
-So. What impressed you the most? From what you saw yourself?
“Let me start with the shortcomings. He’s severely lacking in experience.”
-I’m already aware of that much.
Kevin replied dismissively.
Lack of experience was a common weakness among rookies, after all.
-So what are the strengths?
“Everything else. Even the lack of experience itself.”
-…What kind of nonsense is that?
As Kevin expressed his confusion, Paul added an explanation in a low voice.
“Interestingly, because he lacks experience, he’s exceptionally perceptive in other ways. You know how crucial perception is in baseball, right?”
-You mean he’s skilled at reading the game and understanding the situation?
“Exactly. His mind is incredibly sharp. Thanks to that, his baseball IQ seems remarkably high. And above all.”
Paul recalled the patience Soo-ho had displayed at the batter’s box just moments ago.
That instinctive sense—the ability to endure when the pitcher tempts you, and not to miss when a mistake pitch comes.
“They say humans display superhuman strength when fighting for survival. I keep seeing that in him. It’s like a survival instinct born from desperation.”
-Hmm.
Through the receiver, I could almost hear Kevin stroking his chin thoughtfully.
After a brief silence, he reached his conclusion.
-Got it. Got it. You’re saying to send him to a higher league?
“Yes. Low-A is too limiting for him.”
-Once the Arizona Fall League ends, I’ll arrange for him to join High-A directly.
High-A.
It’s a place most rookies who’ve just entered professional baseball barely reach after grinding through an entire season.
It was a dramatic promotion, but Paul shook his head.
“No?”
-Huh? High-A still isn’t enough?
“Let’s see the final results first. If this kid continues to perform well and gets invited to Spring Training….”
Paul paused for a moment.
Spring Training.
That place where the Major League camps open is every minor leaguer’s dream and the true proving ground.
“We can decide then. There’s no rush.”
-At least High-A, then….
Interest flickered in Kevin’s voice.
The fact that Paul was proposing a hold with this much conviction meant he’d seen potential beyond that.
-Understood. I’ll keep watching. But you know, right? If he wants an invitation to Spring Training….
“I know. I know very well. Don’t worry about that. If that kid doesn’t get selected for Spring Training, then forget about it—High-A seems like the right fit for him.”
-Good. I think we’re done here.
The meaningful conversation ended there, and the call disconnected.
Paul tucked his phone into his pocket and gazed once more at the empty Batter’s Box.
“Will he really make it?”
Paul smiled meaningfully.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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